


drinking all the way to third base

by wanderlust (emiliathegreat)



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: F/M, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, already half-drunk off his ass, and there are a lot of feelings, basically he comes over with a bottle of tequila
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2247564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emiliathegreat/pseuds/wanderlust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But she took another shot. And another. It wasn’t very long before most of the bottle was gone. She was only really drinking because it was there. Sure, it was terrible, but it was the company that kept her going.<br/>Michael was getting giggly like he always did when he drank too much. Olivia’s legs were draped over her best friend’s as she threw back another shot. She thought it really wasn’t that bad anymore. Then again, that only meant that it was working. </p>
<p>or</p>
<p>Michael is Olivia's best friend, and he shows up at her door in the middle of the night to get drunk with her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	drinking all the way to third base

**Author's Note:**

> the title is from english love affair by 5 seconds of summer. this was inspired by that song, mostly because i was surprised that i hadn't come across a fic that had been. it's a bit shorter than i'd have liked it to be, and it's kind of rushed, but i hope it's not too bad.
> 
> so here we are. 
> 
> i hope you like it, feedback and comments are always greatly appreciated, and if you read this, i love you and i hope you have a wonderful day c:

Michael Clifford had been Olivia’s best friend for as long as she could remember. So, in turn, it didn’t come as any surprise to her when he showed up at her house with a bottle of tequila during the middle of the night.

“Michael, what are you doing here?” She asked, groggy and slightly annoyed. She was standing in the frame of her front apartment door in a Blink-182 crewneck and her favorite pair of lace boyshorts. Actually, it was the crewneck that she stole from him, but she didn’t really care right now. It was really cold.

“Why aren’t you wearing pants?”  He giggled, obviously a bit tipsy already.

“If you can come to my door at balls AM, I should be able to answer the door without pants, you asshat.” She began rubbing her eyes. “Do you know what fucking time it is?”

“It’s time to drink a bottle of really bad tequila with my closest friend, that’s what time it is!” He grinned, waltzing into her place like he belonged there in the ungodly hour of the night.

“Are you serious?” She groaned, trying to rub the sleeplessness out of her eyes. She heard him set something on the coffee table and immediately knew that he had found the shot glasses. She turned to glare at him, but he only smiled and patted the couch cushion next to him. She sat down with a huff, crossing her arms.

He unscrewed the bottle and poured a shot for her and for him. He slammed it back and set the empty glass back on the table, hissing through his teeth. “Come on, Olivia.” He urged.

_Oh, what the hell,_ she thought, and took the shot. She coughed when she put it back down, the liquor burning the back of her throat. “Ugh, you woke me up to drink a bottle of this shit with you?” She asked, sticking her tongue out.

“I did tell you that it was really bad though.” He smiled, nudging her knee with his.

“Fucking gross.” Olivia mumbled. But she took another shot. And another. It wasn’t very long before most of the bottle was gone. She was only really drinking because it was there. Sure, it was terrible, but it was the company that kept her going.

Michael was getting giggly like he always did when he drank too much. Olivia’s legs were draped over her best friend’s as she threw back another shot. She thought it really wasn’t that bad anymore. Then again, that only meant that it was working.

He took another shot and burped. Olivia snorted and ran her hand through his hair. “I like your hair lilac.” She said, and he pushed back against her hand playfully. “But I liked it better when it was dark. With the red.” Her slurring wasn’t too bad at this point, and she was surprised.

“You’re drunk.” He said, fiddling with her socked toes.

“Shut up, so are you.” She kicked his hand away. He poured the last of the bottle into their shot glasses, taking his own and handing Olivia’s to her.

“Cheers, bitch.” He told her, holding up his glass.

“Cheers, dipshit.” She replied, and they downed the last one. She groaned as she tossed the glass across the room, it bouncing off the carpet harmlessly.

“You’re probably going to hate me tomorrow when you’re hungover” He said.

“I hate you right _now_.” Olivia countered.

“Sure.” He grinned.

Without the booze as some sort of social crutch, they sat there in silence. Olivia left to find her phone and plug it into the iHome on the coffee table. He whined at her, so she let him pick the song to start out.

They sat there for a minute or so before Michael shyly asked, “Can I try something?”

“Like what?”

“Just don’t like, hit me, ok?” He said quietly. With that, he pulled Olivia closer and pressed his lips to hers.

She tensed at first, then opened her mouth to his. He tasted like that god-awful tequila, but his lips were soft and warm, and she couldn’t help but melt into the kiss. Maybe it was because she had too much alcohol in her system, or maybe it was because she’d been wanting for him to make a move for months.

He slipped his hand up her crewneck and she shivered at the contact, his rough hands cold against her warm torso.

He kicked off his sweatpants, leaving him in his briefs, and pushed her back against the couch to crawl and straddle her waist. He kisses her roughly, their teeth knocking together. He tugged at the hem of her crewneck and helped her take it off, sitting back on his feet and gazing down at her exposed chest while taking his own shirt off.

“Damn it, Liv.” He mumbled, running his thumb over her hipbone. “Can I get you off?”

“Please,” She whimpered. Michael swiftly pulled down her boyshorts, then spread her legs and pushed her knees up. His hand trailed softly down her stomach to brush her clit. Olivia moaned, pulling him down so that he could lick at her mouth and bite at her lip while his fingers pinched at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” She whimpered when he pressed two of his digits into her. He cursed softly at the way she clenched down on them, the wet heat around them. Olivia’s breath caught in her throat when he shifted his position on the couch, moving down her body so that his breath ghosted between her legs. Michael sucked numerous red and purple lovebites on the inside of her thighs. He used his fingers to search for her g-spot while he tongued at her clit, making her grip hiss hair and moan loudly.

When Michael’s fingers brushed Olivia’s g-spot, she let out a shaky gasp as goose bumps rose over her arms and legs. “There, Michael, right there,” She cried out, bucking her hips up against his face. So he hit that spot again, firmly, and reveled in the way her thighs began to shake.

“C’mon, Liv.” He murmured against her clit, his bottom lip catching on the sensitive bud, making her breathe out a shaky sigh.

“ _Jesusfuckingchrist,”_ Olivia’s grip tightened maddeningly on Michael’s hair. “’m gonna come, Mikey,” She whimpered. With a few more thrusts of Michael’s fingers and nips at her clit, she was coming hard, tightening around Michael’s fingers and shaking through her orgasm.

When she comes back to her senses, Olivia realizes that Michael had been rutting into the sheets while he was eating her out, his briefs pulled down past his thighs, his dick flushed and leaking. “You look so fucking hot when you come,” He groaned, wrapping his hand around his cock and moving his hand slowly around his length.

“Do you want me to…?” She asked softly.

“Yes, shit.” Michael breathed, shifting forward so that he was propped up on his forearms on either side of Olivia’s head. So she replaced it with her own, running her thumb over the head of his dick before starting to jerk him off. He came within seconds over her abdomen with a shout of her name, and collapsed onto Olivia, who giggled, pushing him off of her.

To her dismay, Michael rolled and landed on the floor with a loud _thump._ “Ah, why did i…?” He laughed, groaning as he propped himself up on his elbows. Shaking her head at her best friend, Olivia grabbed her discarded crewneck from the ground and wiped off her chest and tummy with it, then threw it back on the ground. She swung her legs off of the couch, standing up and taking Michael by the hand.

“Let’s get in bed, hmm?” She mumbles tiredly, and he hums in agreement, getting up off of the ground and pulling his briefs up. Michael followed her to her bedroom, then crawled under the covers beside her. Olivia fell asleep minutes later, his arms around her waist and his forehead pressed to the back of her shoulder.

~

The next morning, Olivia woke up with the worst headache the world had ever seen. Her head was pounding directly behind her eyes, and it was excruciating. Sighing, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and got out of bed, padding into the kitchen to down some advil.

 After realizing that Michael probably wouldn’t be up for another hour or so, and that she was completely naked, she ventured back into her room for a pair of underwear, then grabbed Michael’s shirt off of the ground in the living room and pulled it on. In the kitchen, Olivia busied herself with making coffee and settled down with a mug.

“Hey,” A voice startled her from the doorway, and she wheeled around to see that it was Michael. She tossed the advil bottle at him, and he took a few with a quiet thanks.

“G’morning.” She said with a smile. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m a bit nauseous, and World War 3 is going on in my head.” He responded with a laugh. Olivia handed him a cup of coffee, and he sat down, sipping at it. “Listen, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, what’s up?” She jumped up to sit on the counter, her ankles crossed, and her hands warming around her mug.

“I don’t remember much from last night, but did we, uh…?” He said, somewhat embarrassed. She knew what he was thinking; it made sense from her point of view. She was in his shirt, and he was in his underwear.

“No. I mean, we didn’t fuck, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She replied, blushing slightly and looking at her feet.

“Hey, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” He said softly, strolling over to her to put his hand on her bare knee. “Listen, believe me, I’ve wanted to fuck you for _years_ , I just wanted to make sure I didn’t take advantage of you while we were shit-faced,” He explained, tracing patterns on her skin with the pad of his thumb.

“You’ve wanted to fuck me for years?” She asked, now blushing seriously.

“I mean… yeah. I have. Like. I remember us kissing, and that was all I’ve wanted in so long and I just… If you don’t feel the same way, I understand.” He didn’t meet Olivia’s gaze. She could feel her face heating up.

“Mikey…” She breathed, lifting his chin so that she could kiss him. He opened up to her, and his mouth tasted like stale booze (and a little bit like cigarettes), but Olivia couldn’t care less. “I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.” She giggled happily when he pulled away.

“Thank fucking God.” He whispered with a shit-eating grin before kissing her again.

**Author's Note:**

> (hey, and if you really liked it, you could like/reblog it on tumblr [here](http://lvcasrobert.tumblr.com/post/96512140179/drinking-all-the-way-to-third-base))


End file.
